


innocent

by nakimdoyu



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Read at Your Own Risk, References to Depression, References to Panic Disorder, References to anxiety, Suicidal Thoughts, Taeyong is from Bucheon not Seoul, and i mean Angst, idol!taeyong, lovers to best friends, non-idol!Doyoung, non-idol!Yuta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 07:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17321036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nakimdoyu/pseuds/nakimdoyu
Summary: At 28, all of Taeyong's past mistakes seem to come back and haunt him.Inspired byInnocent - Taylor Swift.





	innocent

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic after seven years of not writing! And obviously my first _ever_ NCT fic. 
> 
> Please read the tags carefully as there are a few **trigger warnings,** so if you're not comfortable with those, my advice is for you to not read this because it gets a little heavy as we go along.

_i guess you really did it this time  
_ _left yourself in your warpath_

 

\--

 

**_3:03 a.m. – 23rd Feb 2018_ **

_I shouldn’t be here. This is wrong. I should go._

Taeyong turns on his heel and is ready to speed-walk out of the hallway and into the elevator, hoping _he_ would think that it was just some naughty kids playing pranks.

“Taeyong? Is that you?”

 _Oh, shit._ He turns back around to face the man rubbing his eyes off of sleep through the crack of the door.

“Is everything okay? Do you want to talk?”

Of course Yuta knows, he always knows. Dropping his line of vision to his own feet, suddenly finding his boring black Vans interesting, he whispers under his breath, still loud enough for Yuta to hear, “is that okay?”

And a hand he knows all too well is tugging on the sleeve of his grey worn out hoodie he has on.

“Of course it is. Let’s get inside, it’s freezing and you’re not good with cold.”

 

\--

 

 _lost your balance on a tightrope  
_ _lost your mind tryin’ to get it back_

 

**_10:23 p.m. – 22_ _nd_ _Feb 2018_**

“Hurgh! Do I always suck this bad?”

Tayeong huffs to himself, dropping the pen he was holding in his right hand. This is the sixth hour of him inserting and taking out different instrumental samples from that demo track he’s been working on, or at least trying to, for the past two weeks, and he’s going insane. He wonders how he had managed to write some of those songs that hit big, in just a day.

Leaning back in his chair, he closes his eyes and tries to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill.

The past months have been hell and he wonders when will it all dull down – this ache in his heart that is too much to bear with every passing day. He keeps losing and it’s all his own fault, he thinks. Is he losing his music writing abilities too?

_But that’s the only thing I have left, I can’t lose that too._

And then he dozes off.

He wakes up four hours later with racing heartbeats and a pounding in his head, eyes are stinging with tears. ‘ _Please make this go away, I can’t do this anymore. Not alone,’_ he begs in his head but still ends up crying, sobbing into his own palms, all stained with tears and snot.

Before he realises it, his feet, with a mind of their own, are taking him to the one apartment building they know the direction of all too well. His mind is all jumbled up with “I need to see him”, “I shouldn’t do this”, “suck it up, Taeyong! You’re an adult” - thoughts that are way too loud at this point to decide which one is rational enough to listen to. But he ends up right in front of that door anyway, with ’03-05-12’ written in some fancy font he can’t put a name to.

Taeyong opts to stare at the number for the next 10 minutes, not quite knowing what he should do now that he’s here.

He isn’t worried about Yuta but what would Doyoung think? It’s three in the morning, is he out of his mind?! But he’s already here, and there’s no way he’ll manage on his own if he goes back home. So, gathering all the shreds of strength and courage he can still find in him after that hell of a day, he presses the bell once.

Then it hits him.

 _What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK?!_ he freaks out and his heart is about to jump right out of his chest and onto the carpeted floor of the hallway.

 

\--

 

“You were leaving after one bell, didn’t think I would wake up to that, did you?” Yuta walks over with a soft sleepy smile on his face and a steamy mug in his hand before setting it on the coffee table right in front of Taeyong.

He notices the pillows and blankets on the three-seater, with a laptop tucked halfway under. _He must’ve been working and fell asleep in here._

The younger plops right next to Taeyong on the couch. Too careful to verbally ask, he opts to search for Taeyong’s eyes, for _why_ he’s here, and feeling Yuta’s gaze on him, Taeyong looks up.

“I was worried I’d bother Doyoung sleeping, not so much you, to be honest.” Yuta snorted at that.

The atmosphere turns lighter – it only felt tensed to Taeyong – and he is thankful, so he takes the mug in his hand and sips the tea, enjoying how the warm liquid travels down his throat, waking up his nerves. He _knows_ Yuta knows that he is stalling, but he also knows that Yuta doesn’t mind. Yuta always lets him go at his own pace, do things his own way, and that actually hurts now that he thinks about it.

Because that’s how he ended up losing the love of his life once, and eventually everything he holds dear.

As Taeyong sets down the mug, Yuta playfully tugs him to his side and the older can’t help but leans into the warmth, closing his eyes while soaking up this all-too-familiar scent he’s missed so much, always so comforting.

_Can I please stay here like this forever?_

They stay like that in the peaceful silence, neither bother to say anything, and Taeyong mindlessly reaches for Yuta’s free hand and plays with his fingers. Yuta, too familiar with the fact that touch and affection brings Taeyong comfort, lets him. Yuta _always_ lets him.

A few minutes pass and suddenly, Taeyong’s mind starts reeling again, his hands froze.

_I’ve lost everything! I’ve lost him, I’ve lost her, and now I’m losing the one thing I thought I wouldn’t. But this is all my own fault! My selfish ass deserves this, so why am I being a bitch about it?! I should just suck it up and move on, learn to deal with it on my own!_

Yuta senses how stiff Taeyong gets, so he whispers softly, “Hey—"

But stopped mid-sentence by Taeyong turning in his hold, burying his face into the crook of his neck.

And suddenly Taeyong is sobbing, shaking uncontrollably, with one hand finding home in the back of Yuta’s neck and the other clutching the front of Yuta’s pyjama shirt, just right above his heart, holding on for dear life.

Yuta saw this coming. He knew Taeyong is in a bad place, and has been since the passing, but he didn’t want to ask – to make Taeyong talk about it when he’s not ready. He was afraid Taeyong would feel even more guilty than he already does every time he seeks Yuta for comfort. So Yuta let him set the timing, and it happens to be today, tonight, at half past three.

Nevertheless, he can’t help flinching at the thought of how long Taeyong had held it all in for before coming to him about it; a little over two months.

Yuta wraps an arm around Taeyong’s frame and runs his fingers through his hair, whispering “it’s okay”, “I’m here”, “let it all out” and everything he can think of to help Taeyong calm down. Taeyong does exactly that, letting it all out, though not verbally, and Yuta feels his collar dampening.

But Yuta lets him, like he always does.

Even with the sounds of sobbing and heavy breathing so close to him, Yuta still catches Doyoung’s figure shuffling out of their dark bedroom and into the hallway, trying to adjust his eyes to the dim lighting. As he looks around, he locks eyes with Yuta sitting on the couch in the living room before registering Taeyong’s presence in his fiancé’s arms a second later.

Without saying a word, he gives Yuta a knowing nod and shuffles back into their bedroom before silently shutting the door behind him.

Yuta always talks to Doyoung about _this_. He did too this time around.

“Taeyong is unpredictable, and is even more so when he’s not in the best state of mind.”

And Yuta has never been more thankful for having anyone in his life than he does Doyoung, because this man is beyond understanding and never questions his place in Yuta’s life, because he knows – understands – and Yuta too always makes sure that he does.

 

\--

 

 _you wouldn’t be shattered on the floor now  
_ _if only you had seen what you know now then_

 

**_4:35 p.m. – 14_ _th_ _Apr 2012_**

“Can I come over tonight after practice? I want to talk to you.”

“Oh, you’re not sleeping at the dorm tonight? Yay! What time will you be here? Do you want dinner? We can eat together. You chew so loudly but I’ve missed eating with you.” Yuta replies excitedly, ignoring the second part of what Taeyong was saying.

And Taeyong smiles at that, because he’s missed eating together too. Being so busy with promotion after promotion since he debuted as a soloist under SM Entertainment last November, has left him with little to no room to fit Yuta into his schedule. _But I’m gonna miss you even more after tonight,_ Taeyong mentally says, but of course the other doesn’t have a clue.

“Yeap, let’s do dinner. I don’t mind anything, I just want to eat with you,” he ends up saying, and Yuta is blushing on the other end.

He arrived at Yuta’s apartment five hours later, pretty late for dinner but the other male waited for him anyways.

“I just bought everything! Kitchen is pretty empty since I haven’t stocked up on anything, so, sorry! But I know you like this teriyaki chicken from that restaurant next to the train station so I got that, and I also stopped by the bakery to get your favourite roll cake! You must be starving from a whole day of practice. Have they been feeding you good food at the dorm? Because if they don’t, I swear!”

Yuta keeps rambling and Taeyong just gazes up at his boyfriend, smiling fondly from his side of the square dining table.

“Stop fussing and sit down! Let’s eat,” he tugs at Yuta’s hand signalling him towards the other chair.

Taeyong stays pretty quiet throughout dinner, giving his full attention to Yuta whose smile is so bright tonight it’s almost blinding. He wants to catch up for the lost time, to take it all in, bask in his boyfriend’s presence and his every word, because a chance like this might never come again. _Maybe I should tell him tomorrow morning instead,_ he thinks. And as Yuta keeps giggling and whining, with eyes crinkled and nose all scrunched up, in the process of telling Taeyong about how he burned the first batch of cookies he’s ever made in his entire life just last week, Taeyong decides that he’s putting it off until tomorrow.

 

**_6:16 a.m. – 15t_ _h_ _Apr 2012_**

He breathes in deep, inhaling this intoxicating scent that he wants imprinted on the most secluded part of his brain – the exclusive part. There’s something so comforting about Yuta’s scent; it’s naturally musky with a little hint of vanilla and maybe sweat.

 _Is this okay? Will he be okay?_ He wonders while nuzzling his nose right behind Yuta’s ear, knowing full well that it’s going to wake the latter, who is a light-sleeper, up.

He’s right when he feels Yuta pulling his arm that’s resting around the younger’s bare waist tighter. So he indulges Yuta – and himself, really – by dotting sloppy wet kisses down his boyfriend’s nape and back, or more like a few too many. Yuta squirms and giggles in his arms.

“It tickles! I’m trying to sleep!” Taeyong can hear the pout in that.

“You loved it last night so I doubt it’s a problem now,” he teases back, not stopping his ministrations.

And then Yuta is facing him, their faces just inches apart.

 _Wow, I’m such a fool._ Yuta is so beautiful like this – from this distance, glowing in the morning light – and Taeyong hopes for it to be the after effect of last night, an event he wants permanently carved in his memory.

“Will you go for a morning run?” he asks and Yuta shakes his head. “I wanna stay home till you have to leave again,” Yuta elaborates with a soft smile before pecking him on the lips once. And then twice, three times.

The older just closes his eyes to enjoy being showered with delicate affection.

But _that_ thought crosses his mind again and he suddenly tenses up, eyes shoot open only to be met with a confused gaze. Before Yuta can say anything, Taeyong beats him to it, lips already on his in the form of a desperate kiss. He rolls on top of Yuta, caging him with his legs and forearms on either side.

 _Please don’t hate me, I love you too much._ He’s now screaming in his head, and it hurts.

Yuta only responds to the kiss a few beats later, even though he’s not sure where Taeyong’s desperation is coming from, but questions can wait.

When Taeyong pulls away breathlessly, sucking in some air, Yuta places a hand on his right cheek, curiosity dancing in his eyes as he whispers a silent “hey.” Taeyong senses his worries so he drops his head into the crook of Yuta’s neck, inhaling the scent again, his favourite thing to do, but right now it’s the only thing he knows to do. Instinctively, Yuta wraps an arm around his lower back, soothingly rubbing the back of his neck with the other.

And suddenly Taeyong is a crying mess in his embrace.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he mumbles against Yuta’s skin while the other male stays silent, still trying to calm him down. Yuta doesn’t know what this means, but he’s also not sure if he wants to know, so he doesn’t ask. He lets Taeyong go at his own pace, he always does.

A thousand possibilities flash through his mind but he shuts them out in two seconds. It’s crazy how Yuta never once wants to think badly of Taeyong, because _I know better._

They stay like that for a while, limbs all tangled together.

“I don’t think we should do this anymore,” Taeyong says, almost a whisper in the hollow of Yuta’s throat, finally breaking the silence after his sobs have calmed down.

 _What do you mean_? Yuta wonders but stays muted, his throat suddenly feels tight, his ears are ringing.

“I love you so much, too much. I know you know that. Please tell me you know that.” The plea is muffled against Yuta’s skin, seeping right into his veins and burning in his bloodstream.

Silence.

“But looking forward, at least for the next few years, I don’t think I can make this work, make us work,” the last few words are barely audible but everything sounds like a scream in Yuta’s ears.

And then it falls silent again.

_What am I supposed to say? Do I even have a say in this?_

So Yuta doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even know what he’s feeling right in this moment.

When Taeyong pulls away after what feels like an eternity, he searches for Yuta’s eyes that are obviously avoiding his. He tries again by tilting Yuta’s chin upward with a thumb hooked underneath, but the latter only looks him in the eyes for a heartbeat before looking down again.

 _Please don’t hate me._ He thinks, but curses himself right after because how could he think of Yuta like that?

“I should leave, shouldn’t I?” he asks more to himself than to Yuta, voice unsteady.

Silence.

So he slowly peels his body off of the other male and starts putting on his shirt and pants which were scattered on the floor from last night, eyes never leaving his boyfriend’s face, searching for something, anything.

But all he gets is nothing.

Yuta stands silently behind him as he puts on his shoes, tying his shoelaces painfully slowly. He’s stalling, and he knows Yuta knows. As he straightens up, Yuta is looking at him with those doe-eyes, but a sad gaze. So he takes a step closer, testing the waters. When Yuta doesn’t step back, he closes the distance between them, a hand reaching for Yuta’s cheek, caressing it and the younger closes his eyes, his breaths shaky.

And then he is kissing Yuta, delicately, for this might be the last time. Yuta lets him, he always does, and he kisses back too with a hand landing on Taeyong’s hip. But Taeyong doesn’t miss the single tear running down Yuta’s cheek and to where their lips connect. He can taste it, and it hurts _oh_ so much.

_What have I done?_

Pulling away, Yuta still has his eyes closed. So he turns away and steps out the door, not being able to stay there for a minute longer because _this hurts! This hurts so much!_ Not when he’s feeling like this, not with this guilt bubbling inside making him feel like he’s going to throw up any second now.

And then he’s gone.

 

**_10:27 p.m. – 15_ _th_ _Apr 2012_**

_To: Nayuyu🐱💕_  
_i hope you’ve had dinner. i hope you had lunch too._  
_good night, don’t stay up too late!_

 

**_11:04 a.m. – 16_ _th_ _Apr 2012_**

_To: Nayuyu🐱💕_  
_have you gone grocery shopping?_  
_i know you’re busy with assignments but don’t just eat takeaways, ok?_  
_take care xx_

 

**_1:55 p.m. – 17_ _th_ _Apr 2012_**

_To: Nayuyu🐱💕_  
_i slept in today, we practised till 4am last night._  
_i’m so tired, i miss you tho xx_

 

**_9:06 a.m. – 19_ _th_ _Apr 2012_**

_To: Nayuyu🐱💕_  
_hey, sorry i was busy the whole day yesterday._  
_i hope you’re doing ok_  
_let me know if anything_

 

**_8:19 p.m. – 19_ _th_ _Apr 2012_**

_To: Nayuyu🐱💕_  
_please eat dinner!_  
_i just had mine hehe xx_

 

**_5:34 a.m. – 20_ _th_ _Apr 2012_**

_To: Nayuyu🐱💕_  
_i couldn’t sleep, I keep thinking about you._  
_i want to know how you’re doing_  
_please let me know that you’re ok_

 

**_7:22 a.m. – 20_ _th_ _Apr 2012_**

_To: Nayuyu🐱💕_  
_i love you, please take care xx_  
_talk to me when you’re ready_

 

Taeyong tosses his phone right next to where he’s sitting on the couch, eyes back on the morning show playing on tv but not really paying attention to what the hosts are saying. Then his phone vibrates.

A sigh escaping his mouth, expecting it to be the choreographer wanting to meet up today when he picks the phone back up, bringing the screen into his line of vision. And then his eyes go wide, sitting up straight. _It’s Yuta!_ He quickly unlocks his phone.

 

 _From: Nayuyu🐱💕  
_ _Hey, I’m ok. Don’t worry too much_

 

He freezes, trying to process the words he just read. Another message pops up on the screen. And another.

 

 _From: Nayuyu🐱💕_  
_Umm are you free today?_  
_I was thinking that maybe we can talk?_

 

Taeyong is still frozen on the couch. He’s missed Yuta so much but he wasn’t expecting a reply anytime soon. He doesn’t deserve it, anyway. So engrossed in his own thoughts, his phone vibrates again.

 

 _From: Nayuyu🐱💕_  
_Eh it’s ok if you’re busy_  
_We can always talk later when you’re free_  
_Take care!_

 

He almost dropped the device after reading that last message. Fumbling, he presses the call button faster than his brain can process what he’s doing, and lifts the phone up to his ear.

Ring once…ring twice…and “hello?”

_Oh my God._

Silence.

“Hello, Taeyong? Are you there?”

“Yes, hello. Hi. Sorry,” he blurts out uncharacteristically and Yuta snorted at that.

“So are you free or what? Because if yes then I’ll be home the whole day so you can come whenever and we can…” Yuta trails off. Then he clears his throat and continues, “…we can talk.”

Silence again.

“Or do you wanna meet outside? I’m okay with that too!” Yuta adds a little too quickly with a higher pitch, the slight panic is visible in his tone.

“No, no, I’ll go to your house. I’ll be there in an hour, is that okay?” Taeyong asks expectantly and Yuta agrees. The younger wanted to ask if Taeyong wants breakfast but stops himself. _This isn’t the same anymore._

 

_\--_

 

 _did some things you can’t speak of  
_ _but at night you live it all again_

 

**_5:43 p.m. – 21_ _st_ _Nov 2017_**

“Alright let’s just take a 15-minute break,” Taeyong announces to everyone in the studio.

He picks up a cup of coffee from the tray in the corner and enjoys how warm it feels in his palms. The week has gotten colder than the previous one as winter is approaching fast, probably arriving earlier than usual this year. Taeyong hates the cold, even the slightest drop of temperature takes him forever to get used to. But he still has a lot to work on, to get this next album done before the scheduled release in the second month of next year.

He reaches for the phone in his back pocket and mindlessly scrolls through the long list of notifications on the locked screen. There’s a preview of a text message from Mark, his protégé, telling him about that demo track he’s emailed to Taeyong at 3 a.m. last night for him to give an opinion on, another from Yuta notifying his arrival in Osaka this morning, and approximately 100 other things he doesn’t bother checking. _I’ll look at them later._

But one actually catches his eyes.

_2 missed calls from Mum 💝_

Regardless of how annoyed he feels – because he knows what his mother is going to ask him – he presses the call button.  

“Hello, Taeyong! How are you?”

“Hi, Mum. I’m good, just pretty busy. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I just missed you, I feel like I haven’t seen you in quite a while.”

 _Oh._ Taeyong feels bad, _so_ bad. It’s been two months since he last went back to Bucheon. And the fact that his mother is not in the best state of health doesn’t help with the sinking feeling in his stomach either. He hasn’t been calling as often too.

_What is wrong with me?_

“Sorry, Mum. I promise I’ll go back for Christmas, okay? I’m in the middle of recording now, talk to you soon, bye!”

And he hangs up.

He needs to learn how to manage his guilt better. This isn’t working.

_I didn’t even ask how she’s doing._

 

He misses her.

 

**_2:02 a.m. – 1_ _st_ _Dec 2017_**

_Missed call from Mum 💝_

Taeyong lets out a sigh that sounds a little too loud at this hour of the night, alone in his studio.

_I’ll call her tomorrow._

He doesn’t.

 

**_3:29 p.m. – 6_ _th_ _Dec 2017_**

“Are you really not gonna visit home anytime soon? Mum keeps saying she misses you.”

“I told her I’m going back this Christmas, why are you so worked up about this? I talked to her already,” Taeyong says in an annoyed tone. There’s a soft murmuring in the background on the other end of the line.

His sister has been bothering him since the past two days about visiting home, and he’s tired of coming up with excuses.

“Pass the phone to Mum, will you? Why am I talking to you?”

There’s a loud “ugh” before he is greeted with “hello, my Yong” a few seconds later by the voice he loves so much. His heart melts at that.

“Hi, how are you doing? Have you been eating properly? Does Noona cook you enough food?”

His Mum chuckles at that.

They talk for a bit, mostly his mother listening to him ramble about how busy he’s been these past few months, resulting in no time and headspace to even think about _home._ Or maybe he’s just unconsciously projecting his guilt for everyone to see.

“It’s okay, Yong. As long as you’re doing well, I’m only worried about you missing my beef stew,” his mother teases.

“Oh, that I do. Ahh I’m so gonna indulge in that this Christmas!” he’s already salivating at the thought. His mother definitely makes the best beef stew.

“Okay, I gotta go now. Work. Tell Noona to stop using your phone to bother me, or there’ll be no Christmas present for her this year!”

The conversation ends with a warm feeling in his heart. He’s missed _that._

 

**8:39 p.m. – 9th Dec 2017**

_3 missed calls from Mum 💝_

 

**_9:07 a.m. – 10_ _th_ _Dec 2017_**

_Incoming call: Mum 💝_

Taeyong is still fast asleep, only getting back to the dorm at five in the morning. So he misses that too.

He doesn’t call back either. Even for the next few days.

 

**11:48 a.m. – 13th Dec 2017**

His right ankle is throbbing. His stomach is grumbling too, making him regret the decision of not eating breakfast this morning. They’ve been in the dance studio since eight this morning and he thinks, no, he _knows_ he should go get something to eat before he collapses or something. _Not the best thing to happen right now._

Reaching for his wallet and phone on the table to go to the cafeteria at level 2, he glances at the screen.

_5 missed calls from Noona 🐽_

The last one being from 5 minutes ago. Taeyong stares in confusion. And right then, the phone starts vibrating in his hand. _Noona._

“Hello?”

He hears some shuffling, like someone is in a rush.

“Yong? Tayeong? Are you there? Where are you?” his Noona is stuttering, sniffling and Taeyong’s heart rate starts picking up pace.

“Yes, yes, I’m here. What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” he asks desperately.

“Mum, mum!” she’s sobbing now. “Please come back, Taeyong. She’s gone,” the words are muffled but they hit Taeyong like a block of brick in the head. _What?!_

And everything is caving in on him.

He didn’t know that his mother had another minor stroke. Nobody told him about her being admitted to the hospital either, and how she’d been bedridden for almost two weeks.

“Mum made us promise not to tell you. She said you’re busy with a big project and it’d just distract you,” his Noona had explained regretfully. _Of course she did. Of fucking course._

But deep down, he knows that not knowing wasn’t the reason at all. _I’m just a selfish prick who puts work above my family, my own fucking Mum! That’s why I’m here!_

 

**_1:02 a.m. – 14_ _th_ _Dec 2018_**

His phone is ringing right next to his head on the big bed. This bed smells of warmth and comfort. It smells like home, and it hurts.

The next ring snaps him out of his trance, so he picks the little rectangular device up before swiping across the screen and pressing it to his ear without bothering to check who the caller is.

“Hello, Yong?” a careful voice says on the other end. _Him._ “Why are you still up?”

He knows exactly what that means, he knows Yuta is worried sick since that text message he sent on his way back to Bucheon, and he knows Yuta is _dying_ to know if he’s holding up okay.

“What if I say you woke me up?” the reply is threaded with fake composure. Yuta hums in agreement, but he _knows_ Yuta knows.

A sigh escapes his mouth, almost like a whimper before it goes silent.

“Can you stay on the line with me? Please,” he finally says again.

_He doesn’t want to talk about it._

So Yuta talks about everything else, mundane things like “have you had dinner?” and “are you keeping warm enough? I don’t want you to fall sick when I get back.”

“Do you want me there? I can take the first flight back tomorrow morning, I’ve checked just now and there are a few options, one is—”

Before Yuta can finish what he’s saying, Taeyong abruptly cuts in with “no, it’s okay! It’s not fair for you and your family. Doyoung too. I’ll be okay, don’t worry too much. Just enjoy Osaka, okay?”

Yuta had gone back to his hometown, taking Doyoung with him, intending to introduce the man to his whole family since they just got engaged a little over a month ago. The plan is to stay until Christmas, but Yuta is willing to alter that plan if it means he can be there for Taeyong at his lowest point. But Taeyong, as stubborn as he always is, insists that he would feel guilty towards not just Yuta, but to his whole family and also Doyoung if that alteration ever takes place.

Knowing all too well about Taeyong’s extreme guilty conscience, Yuta doesn’t dare protesting.

 

**2:37 p.m. – 17th Dec 2017**

The funeral was dreadful. _Awful._ A voice in his head kept whispering, reminding him that he’d missed the last few chances of talking to his mother before she was gone forever.

It’s still whispering the same damn thing right now as he’s sitting in the bathtub, clutching the front of his own shirt, an attempt to silence the hiccups that are trying to escape his mouth. He tried so hard to be strong throughout the day, facing everyone who was in attendance, greeting them and accepting their condolences with a broken smile but never once did he let a tear slip out of his tired eyes.

He had to be strong for his sister – the only immediate family he still has left – the woman who had gone through too much pain having to watch their mother slowly slip away right in front of her eyes.

But right now, he can’t hold it in anymore. He doesn’t have to, for he’s out of everyone’s sight, probably even his own.

It may have been a while since he’s been back in this house, but he knows exactly where everything is; the sedatives, the disposable shaver blade, even the sulphuric acid if he ever needs it. But he’s strong, strong enough to opt for grabbing his phone that was sitting too close to the edge of the bathroom counter instead of everything else, and speed dialling the one number he can think of.

“Yuta,” he chokes as soon as the other end of the line picks up – just barely one ring in. Yuta is probably still up waiting for _this_ very call.

“Hey, Yongie?” concern laced in his tone, only to be responded with muffled sobs and occasional hiccups. So Yuta lets him be, lets him take his time.

“Hey, please talk to me. I know you’re not okay but please tell me you will be. Please,” he pleads after a few torturous minutes of just listening to Taeyong cry. “Are you safe? Is there someone with you?”

Pause.

“D-do you want me there?” he adds hesitantly. “If you want me there, you can say it. It’s completely okay if you do, it’s far from selfish. I do wanna be there too” and Taeyong cries harder at that.

“ _Please,”_ Taeyong sniffles as he drags the word longer. “Please come get me.”

 

\--

 

**_9:02 a.m. – 20_ _th_ _Apr 2012_**

The knock on the door has Yuta turning his head so fast he almost had a whiplash. He was busy fidgeting on the couch while the tv played some random game show he didn’t pay any mind to, with a soft teddy bear sitting within the loop formed by his crossed legs.

He’s not sure if he’s excited or scared for this meeting to happen. Regardless, he wants to see Taeyong. Sure they’d gone days or even weeks without seeing each other, but never had they let a day pass without talking, even just exchanging good nights sometimes. Maybe that’s why this feels like a reunion – not really knowing what to expect or do or say, but hoping to just go with the flow and see how it turns out.

The cold wind bites at Yuta’s cheeks the moment he opens the door, revealing a Taeyong standing with a hand in his pocket. He looks a little pale but his nose and the tips of his ears are red, eyes slightly wet from the cold breeze. _Endearing,_ Yuta thought to himself.

“Oh, come in!” Yuta steps aside making way for Taeyong.

“Sorry, I’m late,” he says as soon as Yuta pushed the door shut.

“What?” Yuta asks with a raised brow and an amused smile. “You’re fine,” he adds with a laugh.

They sit at the dining table – the exact same one where they had their last dinner – Yuta does everything at that table. It’s a small apartment after all, so he makes use of the space he has.

Taeyong always admires Yuta’s sense of style in decorating the house, simple but classy with a hint of playfulness. One wall is painted lilac grey while the others are kept white, complemented with furniture of the same colour pallet. There are splashes of colour where appropriate, like his green coffee machine, his red plates and the yellow clock on the wall.

However, the best element has to be Yuta’s huge collection of anime figurines in some corners of the house. There’s almost always a new figurine added to the collection every time Taeyong comes to hang out or stay the night. And mind you, Taeyong came here a lot until seven months ago. It’s amusing really, and he _loves_ asking Yuta about them, because then his eyes would light up in the most beautiful way, and they would sparkle as he talks about the characters with so much passion. Taeyong is going to miss this house, he’s going to miss it _a lot._

“Did you really not sleep at all last night?” Yuta asks, recalling Taeyong’s messages from this morning.

Taeyong looks down at his hands on the table before lightly shaking his head. Yuta nags at him a lot even during his trainee days, telling him to never take the opportunity to get some rest in for granted, and to eat properly despite the diets he has to go on, so he knows Yuta is narrowing his gaze on him. “Sorry,” he mutters, and Yuta lets out a defeated sigh.

“I’m sorry I’m doing this to you,” he says after a long pause and finally dares to look at Yuta.

“To us,” Yuta corrects and he flinches at that.

Yuta, more than anyone, knows that Taeyong is hurting too despite it being his own call. But he’s ready to listen to his reasons with an open mind.

 

\--

 

 _wasn’t it easier in your lunchbox days  
_ _always a bigger bed to crawl into_

 

**_11:52 p.m. – 12_ _th_ _May 2017_**

The car ride home is silent, save for the light music playing on the radio. Taeyong is sitting at the back, right behind the passenger seat with his head resting on the headrest, staring out the window as the world zooms past him, except he is the one in motion and not the other way round.

He’s out of Yuta’s sight but Doyoung is stealing glances through the rear mirror with the help of the streetlights illuminating his features, and even if Taeyong notices it, he doesn’t say anything.

Yuta’s eyes are trained on the road in front of them, he looks restless. Doyoung can tell from the way he has his hands together in his lap – pinching at the denim fabric of the black jeans he has on – that he’s trying his best to not cry. So he reaches over and takes one in his before giving it a squeeze, and he feels a tear fall right onto the back of his hand.

This is the second time they had to rush Taeyong to the emergency room since he was diagnosed three months ago. It may not have been as bad as the first time but that doesn’t stop Yuta from worrying.

Having to watch Taeyong struggle to breathe, telling them that his whole body is hurting before starting to lose consciousness in the middle of a sobbing fit isn’t exactly something Yuta can ever get used to. But that is precisely what happened a few hours ago when Taeyong made a surprise appearance in front of their apartment door after just landing back in Korea from his schedule in Spain.

His demanding job sure takes a lot – being one of the most heavily sought celebrities for his phenomenal singing, writing and modelling skills – but when his mother had a stroke early this year, that was the last straw.

His popularity has only been increasing, even after seven years of being in the industry. However, his personal life is spiralling down faster than he would like to admit.

They arrive at the apartment with silence still enveloping them. Kissing Taeyong’s temple, Yuta then makes his way to the bedroom, making eye contact with neither Taeyong nor Doyoung. They both simultaneously let out a sigh, or more like a breath they’ve both been holding without realising. Doyoung ushers Taeyong to the spare bedroom he’s spent so many nights in since the two moved into the house after buying it just last year.

“Will you be okay?” Doyoung asks cautiously with a hand on Taeyong’s shoulder.

“Yeah.”

Pause.

“Sorry about tonight, I didn’t mean it to—”

“Oh shush, I’m actually glad you came here instead of going home and dealing with it all by yourself. You’re always welcome here, you know that right?” Doyoung asks and Taeyong nods at that because of course he knows. The pair never fail to remind him, but it still doesn’t help with the guilt.

“If you need anything just let us know, okay? Now go get some sleep,” Doyoung slides the hand down his arm before giving it a light squeeze and Taeyong appreciates the gesture.

Closing the door to their shared bedroom behind him, Doyoung finds Yuta already tucked in on the bed with his back facing him. It’s quiet and warm with the dim lighting and the heater on, but what startles him is the soft sniffle which is unmistakably Yuta’s. Panicking, he strides to Yuta’s side of the bed only to find his boyfriend with puffed eyes and a soaked pillow underneath his head.

“Oh, baby,” he whispers while kneeling down and reaching to stroke Yuta’s cheek with the back of his hand. It pulls at his heart seeing Yuta like this – helpless and worried – but he, himself doesn’t know how to help.

Yuta only squeezes his eyes shut at the touch as he cries harder. It’s been a long night for all three of them and Doyoung decides that talking isn’t going to get them anywhere tonight. So he climbs onto the bed, slots himself behind Yuta under the covers before pulling the latter flush to his chest. Not being able to come up with something to say, he hopes to at least be able to provide Yuta with the love and warmth he deserves, reminding him that he’s not alone in this – that Doyoung is _always_ by his side.

“I wish I could help him, Do. I really do,” Yuta whispers and chokes a little at the end, but Doyoung doesn’t miss it even in his half asleep state.

A tear slips as he naturally tightens the embrace and kisses Yuta’s shoulder before both of them drift into a peaceful slumber.

 

\--

 

“Taeyong,” Yuta starts.

“You know I never ask you of this but please,” there’s a pause. “Please talk to me.”

Yuta sounds so small when he’s pleading like that, even when he’s the one holding Taeyong. It makes Taeyong feel even more guilty. But it’s inevitable, he needs to talk about it sooner or later – the many sessions he’s had with the therapist conclude to that – and of course the only person he would feel comfortable enough to bare everything to is Yuta Nakamoto, the only person who’s seen him through his highest, lowest, and all the points in between.

When Yuta went to accompany him in Bucheon, his sole intention was to be there for Taeyong – to be his support and courage as he stayed strong for the sister. Throughout the two weeks they spent there, not once did Yuta make him feel like he _had_ to talk to him about it unless he was ready to. And Taeyong was very grateful.

He had offered to fly Yuta back to Osaka for Christmas, but the younger refused, insisting to spend it in Bucheon with Taeyong’s family instead.

“But what about Doyoung? You went back to introduce him to your family and spend the holidays there,” he had asked.

“Yes that _was_ the original plan. But even Doyoung insists that I stay here with you,” was Yuta’s reply.

“He said he’s fine there so don’t worry,” he assured.

Taeyong takes a deep breath to calm the storm that is going on inside his head, before straightening up and pulling away from Yuta’s embrace. Their hands remain linked. Looking up to meet Yuta’s eyes, he collects his thoughts before blurting, “I think I wanna go on a hiatus.”

Yuta’s eyes go wide at that. He’s speechless, but in the best way possible. Never has he felt more relieved than he does right now. But Taeyong looks slightly perplexed by his silent reaction.

“Oh, no! No, no, no! I’m actually really happy about this! Taeyong, yes! I support your decision, I am all about you putting your mental well-being first. I’m so happy to hear this!” he says with his eyes twinkling from the tears that are already pooling.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to finally give yourself a break,” and the first tear breaks free.

Taeyong smiles at that. And then he starts talking, a hand intertwined with Yuta’s.

 

\--

 

Their relationship has been the best and the most beautiful thing that has ever happened to Taeyong, even after their breakup almost seven years ago. They were still so in love with each other when that happened, but if only the circumstances were different.

However, staying as best friends is the one thing they’re very sure they did right, because “there’s no way in hell I’m gonna get through this shitty life without you!” Taeyong had said at _that_ dining table. And he wasn’t wrong.

The talk _that_ day went well even though it started a little shaky. They even ended up cuddling and taking a nap – a long one since Taeyong could really use it – on the couch afterwards. Taeyong was very transparent with _why_ he decided to call off the relationship despite still being very much in love with Yuta. They came to a mutual agreement at the end, and the lack of meeting from that point on – Taeyong being very busy with his schedule and was constantly travelling – had helped Yuta cope. But not without one too many nights where he cried himself to sleep.

A few years down the line, they slowly moved on from those feelings even though it took longer for Taeyong than it did Yuta. But three years is still pretty long.

When Yuta had told him about Doyoung two years ago, he was hurt at first. Nevertheless, he appreciated Yuta’s honesty. They’re best friends after all with barely any secrets between them. It took a while for Taeyong to realise that despite him having _so much_ love for Yuta, he no longer loves Yuta like _that._ And it was the point where he started learning to be happy for the lovebirds. They also started hanging out together more often, with Taeyong and Doyoung getting along very well with each other.

Doyoung, understands that the two have such a special bond and friendship. And for that very reason, things work out perfectly for the trio.

For someone who is on the outside looking in, it may not look like Taeyong did get over the feelings since he’s stayed single up until today, but that’s only because his focus has solely been on his career. And more than anyone, Yuta and Doyoung know that.

The pair always hope for Taeyong to finally find someone he can confide in, because as much as they want to accommodate, it’s Taeyong himself who involuntarily holds back due to his extreme guilty conscience.

But for now, things are looking up, and he’s excited for what life will bring as he focuses on himself while having his favourite couple, Yuta and Doyoung, as his support system.

His next album can wait.

 

 _lost your balance on a tightrope  
_ _it’s never too late to get it back_

 

\--

 

**Author's Note:**

> You made it here! Thank you so much for reading, I hope I didn't break too many hearts.
> 
> First of all, let me thank two of my best friends, **Ali** and **Rox** for supporting me throughout my writing process - especially my self-critical ass and those late nights even though I had work the next day. These two got to read it first and I appreciate their opinions and constructive criticism.
> 
> A few important points I would like to highlight in this fic:  
> 1\. Romantic love _isn't_ the ultimate or most valuable form of love, and _shouldn't_ be considered as a step-up from platonic love.  
> 2\. I am aware that everyone's experience with mental illness varies. Therefore, please do not take offence if what I've described doesn't exactly sound like what you've experienced. I based a big chunk of it on my own experience, the people I know, and also my general knowledge of it.  
> 3\. Mental health is just as important.
> 
> I hope I did a good job in getting these points across through the fic!
> 
> Please leave kudos if you like it, and I appreciate if you comment and tell me what you think of this - what you like and what I can improve on. I'm **sechanlovebot** on twitter if you wanna come say hi!
> 
> p/s: if it wasn't for Ali, I don't think I would be writing again. She's [**xiurora**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiurora/pseuds/xiurora) on AO3 so go check her amazing pieces out!


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